


sensual

by a5xa7 (CastelloFlare)



Series: the runner's romance [5]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Fellatio, Foreplay, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastelloFlare/pseuds/a5xa7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Newt "performs" Minho's birthday present on the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sensual

**Author's Note:**

> So here's my first shot at Minewt smut. Thank you so much for clicking on this, I hope you enjoy.

A warm, moist, and -- _definitely_ \-- pleasurable sensation growing in his nether regions jostled Minho awake. His breath hitched in his throat, creating a sound that betrayed the pleasure he was feeling, and also alerting the invader of his bedroom that he wasn't alseep anymore. The warmth that enveloped his shaft slowly retreated, but not without one tantalizing flick of the tongue on the glans. Minho groaned, a bass-like sound that emanated from deep in his throat, and as if responding to his wordless request, a hand clasped onto his aching cock and began to caress it in agonizingly slow strokes.

Newt's head poked out from beneath the sheets, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Glad you could finally join us, Min," he whispered, voice laced with desire and seduction. With his free hand, he cupped Minho's cheek and planted a quick kiss on his nose.

"What time is it...?" Minho said groggily. Despite being lightheaded after having just woken up, and the focusing of all his senses between his legs, he could estimate that it was only a little past midnight.

"It's phase one of your birthday gift," Newt whispered back, his working hand slowly trailing down to grope and massage Minho's balls, making his breath catch again. "Happy Birthday."

"Couldn't have waited until daylight, could we," Minho said, his own hands trailing up inside Newt's shirt to caress his torso.

"Don't see you complaining," Newt smirked. "Want to know how you taste?"

And without waiting for an answer, he tilted his head and kissed Minho squarely on the mouth, parting his lips skilfully with his tongue. Lip collided against lip, tongue wrestled with tongue, sucking and moaning and biting. They've kissed so many times that they have somehow made a rhythm of their own, as if their passion was the music and their tongues and lips knew just where and how to move to elicit ths most pleasure they can from the other. With Newt, they had both developed a kind of hunger, a desire so great it was insatiable if not remedied by the touch of the other.

Newt pulled away, but only to plant more kisses on his jaw and neck, down to bite on his collarbone, his chest and nipples, sucking on his abs until he was just inches before the head of his penis, now even more aching with the need of Newt's mouth. Minho's back arched, his breath getting more labored with nearing the seat of his pleasure.

But then, Newt stopped.

"The fuck...?" Minho groaned, and he tilted his head from his pillow and looked under the covers to see Newt, smirking behind his pulsating erection, worshipping it with his eyes instead of his mouth. Newt's breathing was long and slow and hot on his cock, and utterly deliberate, done to agonize Minho by simultaneously delaying and building up his pleasure.

He watched as Newt tilted his head to the side, watching with the glee and curiosity of a child, how his cock twitched and leaked precum at the mere sensation of his warm breath. As tempted as he was to touch and pleasure himself, Minho refrained from doing so. Last time he didn't let Newt have his way with him, the shank abruptly left him with a needy erection, because if "[your] own hands were sufficient enough, then what was the point of [my] participation?", which totally robbed Minho of his most anticipated orgasm. In the succeeding week, Newt didn't climb up his bedroom window, and when he himself tried to reach out to him, all he got was an email from Newt, with an attachment of a personal masturbation video, at the end of which the blond looked with sultry eyes at the camera and whispered, "It will be a while before you get some of this."

Minho decided he never wanted that to happen again, and instead busied his hands by clutching the sheets.

While Newt's eyes were fixated on Minho's erect shaft, his hands had rested themselves on his muscular thighs, caressing them softly, going up and down and sometimes squeezing. They moved some more, until they found Minho's buttocks, where they cradled each cheek and gently traced big circles there with their palms. Minho swallowed, arching his back once again. Every nerve-ending in his unattended groin was responding wildly to Newt's heated touch, to every warm breath ghosting on his skin.

"Newt..." Minho gasped, his toes folding themselves beneath the sheets. "I think... I'm gonna--"

Newt's hand instantly flew back up and clasped his erection, but instead of helping in Minho's release, he pressed his thumb firmly on the glans, blocking the passage with which cum was about to explode.

"So soon, Min?" Newt smirked. "We've got all until daylight to play."

Minho swallowed some more, hoping that Newt would at least knead on his slit with his thumb, but when it came to tormenting him with sex and pleasure, Newt absolutely knew no mercy.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote the first half of this in public tbh. I'm probably writing fluff next time nyahahahaha
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much to those who have been reading this series! Sometimes I find myself disliking my own writing, so every comment from you guys is very much appreciated. Much love! ♥


End file.
